Gravitation
by merciki
Summary: "Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love". Albert Einstein.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: First of all, huge thanks to ****R J Lupin's Kat**** for the awesome beta:) **

*** I don't own In Plain Sight.**

*** This is set AFTER season 4. Yes, you read me. AFTER. So there might be a bit of spoilers.**

*** It's my first attempt at smut. Feel free to make any constructive remark . And to review.**

*** Basically, this is a one-shot, but I can be convinced to go on. Or not.**

* * *

><p>" Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love" . Albert Einstein.<p>

* * *

><p>Stan McQueen hung up the phone, sighing in relief. The day had been long, but the witness was now on his way to his new location, and both his Marshals were on the road back from Denver, heading towards Albuquerque. From what Marshall had told him on the phone, they would be at the Sunshine Building in around one hour. All went well, no fights between Mary and a certain FBI agent he wouldn't name, no problem during the testimony of Helen Goodall (formerly Helen Goodwill), no security alert. At least one normal day. He looked at the empty office and sighed again, took his coat, turned off the lights, and was singing while coming in the elevator.<p>

It's funny to see how a simple and easy day can become… another kind of day.

"Good Lord, Numbnuts, can't you just for once, just once, speed? I need a shower, I need a good night of sleep, and I need to get out of this oven of a car! I knew I should have driven last." Mary sighed loudly, crossing her arms in front of her, mumbling whatever she had in mind. Marshall looked at her from the corner of his eye to see his partner, her blonde hair glowing, illuminated by each street lamp before falling into the night until the next one passed.

"We'll be in Albuquerque in fifteen minutes, Sunshine. In half an hour, the car is back in the parking lot, and you can head home."

Mary turned to him, and a streetlamp illuminated her face, "Oh no, no, no, Doofus, no way you're dragging me to clean this pile of shit and dirt they call a car. If you want to give it back clean, you'll do it yourself. No way I'm heading to Octopus this time." She was now menacing him with her right finger, and a look which had intimidated more men than were needed to play a Superbowl final. But she was dealing with the only one who wasn't afraid of her. Bad luck.

"Nice try, Mare, but as you rightfully pointed out earlier, I'm the one driving, so let's go clean the car." Marshall had that particular smile he used when he was sure he had her cornered, and was happy to have the last word.

He knew she wouldn't leave the washing station, as it was way past midnight and cab fares would be sky high. She wouldn't spend money to go back home and leave her car in the parking lot, meaning she would have to pay again the next morning to head to the office. Sometimes she was so predictable.

Marshall turned right off of the highway and turned on the radio to cover Mary's mutterings, paying no attention to them. She could shout, cry, whatever; there was no way he would give back this truck not completely cleaned. And if she wouldn't comply, he was ready to handcuff her – oh, yeah, _that_ would be fun, he smirked, watching her pout on her side of the car.

Mary turned the radio off, suddenly stricken by something. "You didn't call your cheerleader yesterday."

She looked at him, awaiting the slightest change in his face; a twinge, a hint to know his answer before he spoke – if he spoke. Lately he didn't share a lot about his private life, since she'd discovered his relationship with Det. Abigail Chaffee, but she suddenly realized that he didn't share much of his life before, either. She was pretty sure he knew almost everything about her. He even knew in which drawer her bras and panties were, as he proved to her one very early morning when she took too much time to pack. But she couldn't tell whether he was wearing boxers or briefs Much less where he was storing them.

"You know, Cheerleading originated in Minnesota, and has existed since 1898, when a student, named Johnny Campbell – not related to whiskey- started cheering." Marshall had made his automatic trivia reply without blinking, without giving away too much of his feelings, of himself. As usual.

Mary turned her head to him, now in full inquiry mode. "I care about the history of cheerleading as much as I care about the color of Dr Phil's tie. So... You didn't call your girlfriend yesterday night, and not the night before, so why?"

Marshall looked at her, saw the light in his partner's eyes like a dog looking for a juicy bone, then sighed. "Why are you so interested in my private life now? The only thing you've been able to tell about Abby so far is how perky she is, how boring life with her should be. So why are you so interested to know whether I called her or not?"

Well, fighting just like the good old times, before this girlfriend thing, before her god damned pregnancy and this last year. She smiled. "Aren't you the one who told me you had a small pied-à-terre in my head? So I guess I also have a right to visit yours. You're the guy who talks to his mom every day, Marshall, and after more than a year in a relationship, you're a man who talks to his girlfriend everyday. So _why_ didn't you call her?"

She was right, and he knew she knew she was. Just as he knew she wouldn't stop asking him as long as she didn't get the answer she wanted: the truth.

"Actually, Mare, the answer is in your question. Do you have change for the wash?" Marshall knew very well that asking US Marshal Mary Shannon for some change was like asking the sun to rise North. A total impossibility.

"Of course I don't have change, nimbwit. You should know better. And does your answer mean, _really means,_ what I think it means?"

Marshall sighed, tightening his grasp on the wheel and digging his elbow onto the car's windowsill.

"I guess it depends on what you think it means. And as you have no change, we'll just have to go to the USMS garage to wash this piece of dust."

Mary remained silent for a few seconds before she slowly put her hand on his right arm. She could feel him tense at her touch, then he relaxed with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Marshall. Really thought it would work with her. Mary's voice was soft, a change from her usual brusque nature. Want to share what happened? "

Marshall did not lose his focus on the road, not giving his partner the chance to mock him. This break-up with Abby was painful, but a lot less painful than Mary leaving with Mike Faber on holiday. Her hand was still on his arm, warm, careful not to disturb his driving… protective.

"It just didn't work. She didn't like that I left her at Peter and Brandi's wedding to come with you. When I came home, her things were gone; there was only a note telling me it was over." Mary's hand froze on his arm.

"Marshall, it's been three months now .. and you're telling me now? Why?"

Marshall finally turned his head to look at her straight in the eyes. "You didn't ask."

Mary's hand left his forearm as she looked at him, stunned. And ashamed? _Is it guilt I'm feeling? Am I really his best friend_?

She remembered the day she gave birth to her daughter. It had been, of course, on the day Peter and Brandi had gotten married. She had started feeling contractions during the ceremony, but paid no attention to them; she had had them before, and remembered rushing to the ER for nothing. She had thought that this time again it could wait a little, and it was only when she hit the buffet that she had really started to worry. Her belly hurt her so much, she nearly collapsed in the shrimp bowls. And it was Marshall, again, who had helped her. Even there he had her back. She remembered him taking her to the maternity, leaving everything behind him without a single thought.

He was even inside the room when she actually gave birth, had held her hand when she was crying and shouting, as it was then too late for her to have an epidural. Mary was quite sure she had nearly broken his hand in the process. He was there too when she was presented her daughter for a few minutes, before the nurses took her away forever. He had been there to hold her when she cried, had been there the days after she came home and had to face her baby blues, had been there to help her get fit and requalify. And she had taken it all for granted, and never once did she ask how he was doing.

"I'm selfish; how can you stand me? How can you stay, Marshall?" The truth had hit her, and it was painful. Marshall turned left into the Sunshine Building parking lot, cut the engine and turned to her.

"Some would say it's part of you charm. You're not selfish, Mare." Mary opened her mouth to protest when he drew his finger to shut her up. "Let me finish. You're not selfish, you just protect yourself. But it would be appreciated if sometimes you lower your defences and let those who care reach you and _show_ you they care. Now, if you want to go home, your car is right over there. I will clean the SUV and head home in a few."

Marshall climbed out of the grey Toyota, removed his jacket and carefully folded it on the driver's seat. He unlocked the hatch, hearing Mary's door open. It wasn't long before his partner came to the back of the car to remove her go-bag. She said nothing to him, just took her bag and headed to her new car. Marshall sighed, hearing the doors of the black Probe she was now driving (amazingly, Peter seemed to be able to discover every available Probe on the market). He resumed removing of his own go-bag, discarding it on the ground nearby.

He was making his way to the vacuums when a hand on his arm stopped him. "I'll take care of the vacuuming while you put your bag in your car. Then we'll clean this pile of dirt and go home."

Mary had come back. To help him. Willingly. "It's okay, Mare, you don't have to help me. I can do it. I know you don't like to clean. It's okay, really. Go back home, take your shower and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Mary recognized the offer for what it really was: Marshall was giving her a way out. Again. Taking care of her. As always. "No, Doofus, you'll let me help this time. This partnership is a two-way one. And it doesn't have to be only _my_ way. So go put your bag in your car unless you want it drenched in a few minutes. And if you're a good boy, you'll be allowed to play with water, I swear."

Mary shooed him with a wave of the vacuum tube, and Marshall started laughing. A good easy, laugh, as the sight of a domestic Mary cleaning a car was something he never thought he would see. He was well aware that she was making an effort right now, and he wasn't going to argue with her. The least he could do was wait a bit before resuming their discussion.

He had just closed the door of his car when all went dark around him. Nobody had knocked him down, it was just dark, and he knew why. He was quite sure he would hear from his partner in no time.

"Oh fucking hell, Marshall, what's going on here? Who shut off the lights?" He smiled and carefully walked to his right, touching the wall with his hand

"Hang on, Mare, it's a timer. They use it to save electricity, as most people usually forget to shut the light off before leaving. Sound familiar?"

Mary's voice, coming from the interior of the SUV was a bit deformed when she answered him "I leave it on on purpose, so my fellow co-workers can have light when they get out of their cars. And I never ask for a thank you for that" Marshall's laugh was what she heard, signalling he had moved a bit to the left.

"Of course. Pure kindness from you. And here is the switch, I think. Let there be light!"

Marshall was not prepared for the sight he was given when light finally came. Mary was half in the car, her right knee on the back seat, her left on the ground, and her butt in plain sight. "Stop watching, Pervis, or you'll run out of air, and there is no way I'm calling EMT. No more paperwork for tonight." Her partner couldn't help but stare at the shape of her ass, clad in her denim jeans and showing a bit of a panties, as her tank top and leather jacket had ridden up.

"I'm not watching, Betty Boop, I'm admiring. There's a difference." Marshall knew he was taking a risk. He had known how he felt for his partner for so long now, knew it wasn't the perfect time to make his move. But he just couldn't help himself. The sight of that small part of Mary's bare back had burnt some of his neurons, precisely the ones that usually kept him silenced.

Mary made her way out of the SUV, still holding the vacuum tube, and just headed to put it down. "Betty Boop was a brunette; you could have gone with Marilyn or Jane Fonda…"

Marshall cleared his mind quickly of images of Mary dressed as Marilyn in _Seven Year Itch_, standing on that subway vent, wind playing with her white dress, and took the water hose out of its holster. "Yeah, I could have. But I aim to surprise. Now if you want to keep your word and let me play with the water…." Marshall said the last words while pulling the trigger of the water hose, turning the stream towards the dusty black car. Mary hurriedly closed the doors and took a step back to avoid the water. She slipped a little on the small puddle forming and it caught her partner's eyes. She saw the mischief in them and started to make a run; she foresaw oh-so-well what was coming her way. Truth was, she would have done the same in his place.

_She's fast_, Marshall thought, _but not fast enough_

The stream of cold water hit her straight in the chest, making her regret wearing a black bra under her white linen shirt. She was giving him an eyeful, her underwear neatly apparent now. "You are so going to pay for that, moron! It's cold!" she shouted at him.

A second wave of water hit her right in the legs. He conversationally answered her. "Aren't you the one who told me you needed a shower? And that I was allowed to play with water?" he asked, alternating cleaning the car and pursuing Mary with the hose. She started to reply, throwing back soap suds coming from the hose, occasionally hitting him. They were both laughing like six years old kids – in a parking lot at midnight.

That is, until the light went out again just as Mary was throwing a particularly wet pack of lather to Marshall. Dark surrounded them, and without sight, Mary felt herself take a wrong step, slipping in the water and falling on the ground, emitting a loud "Ouch!" as she hit.

Marshall immediately tried to stop the water. Failing to find the holster, he just put the hose on the ground and searched for his partner.

"Mare, are you okay? Where are you?" The parking lot was really dark now, and he didn't know how far he was from a switch; they had moved a lot while playing with water. He would have to try to reach her by her voice. "Talk to me, Mare, so I can find you…" He heard a moan somewhere on his right, and headed forward with caution, not really knowing where the SUV was and not wanting to hit it.

"I'm okay, just completely soaked and my pride hurt. Lend a hand, partner?"

Marshall carefully made his way to Mary, who was indeed sitting in the middle of a puddle of soapy water. He grabbed her arms to help her up. "Come on, Mare! I thought you had lost all your baby weight!" He was smirking; he knew perfectly well from training that she had indeed lost each and every single pound she had gained during her pregnancy, and she was just beautifully fit now. She grabbed his hands, and instead of pulling to rise up out of the water, Mary just pulled him down into the water with her. No reason he should remain dry when she was completely soaked.

Completely surprised by her move (although if you think about it, he shouldn't have been surprised at all by it) Marshall felt him fall. Except he did not fall on the soaked ground, but on top of his partner. He was fully aware of several things at once: his weight on her, her nipples tightening against her shirt due to the cold water, the heated touch of her hands on his arms, the beating of his heart, suddenly pounding harder in his chest. He tried to put his hands on the ground in order to stand up, but Mary wouldn't loosen her grip on his arms.

The dark of the parking lot was only broken by the red of the emergency exits signs, sending a shivering light over the two figures lying on the ground. The air around them seemed suddenly to become louder, filled with tension and desire. The only sound that could be heard was the pumping of the water hose, still pouring more and more cold water around the two silhouettes who weren't caring about it anymore.

They were staring into each other's eyes, neither of them daring to make a move. Time had frozen. For his soul's sake, Marshall didn't want to be the one to make the first move. For once he had no clue as to how Mary would react. He didn't know if she shared any amount of feelings for him that were beyond friendship. But he _was_ sure that if he started anything, he wouldn't be able to stop. She was way too tempting; she always had been.

Mary slowly eased her grip on Marshall's left arm, immediately hearing him sigh and push himself up, leaving her body in the cold water. But that wasn't what she wanted at all. Right now, she wanted to keep his body close to hers, keep his warmth, feel his breath on her face, ears, feel his hands everywhere. She wanted him, and she knew with certainty that if she didn't take the first step, he wouldn't do it. She couldn't blame him for that. How many times had he told her he loved her, and she didn't listen? Or _wouldn't_ listen?

She remembered the kiss in the barn; the day with Horst, when he told her he was her keeper; the silent exchanges; when he came to her rescue when she was abducted, or when she went out of the building after taking care of Lewis; the toast at her engagement party. The day she left with Faber. And she never gave him any hint to what her feelings were, never told him how she felt, how she cared so deeply – was it love? She didn't know. She had never loved before, but she was willing to give a chance to this thing she started feeling in her belly, in her head.

It took her only the time of his sigh to realize all that, and she was ready to make her move. Her right hand left his arm completely, but she didn't allow him to leave her. It went instead to his neck, asking him gently to come closer. She lifted her own head, still looking him straight in the eyes, and answered his unspoken question by just licking her lips.

She placed her mouth only a breath from his, and Marshall understood immediately: she was giving him a way out. After all they've been through these almost nine years, after all he had told her and was left unanswered, she was finally giving him what he wanted: herself. And she didn't want to force him, in case – just in case – he didn't want her anymore. As if he could.

After nine years of partnership, and four years of love, Marshall Mann made his move, finally closing the space between his mouth and Mary's. He didn't expect the rush of electricity he felt in his body, from his hair to his toes at the moment their lips met. She tasted like honey. Her lips were like a well to a thirsty man; he would drink the water he was craving for, knowing for sure he could never have enough. They were soft like silk and he could feel her respond with as much need and desire as his. He felt himself becoming harder with the simple touch of her lips, and couldn't even think about her skin now without feeling his boxers and jeans growing too tight.

She felt a jolt of electricity in her whole body when his lips met hers, and she was ready to swear that her toes had curled inside her boots. She felt his mouth on her, and it wasn't like any other kiss she had ever had. This one was soft, kind, not purely sexual. This kiss carried feelings, and she felt them, as much as she felt his cock hardening against her pelvis. She couldn't help but smile at the effect she had on him. She released his right arm, not needing to hold him down now, and started to trace his chin and every line and angle of his face by fingertip while her mouth danced with his.

He could feel her hand on his face, her mouth on his, but he didn't want to speed up things. Although another part of his anatomy was currently begging him to. He didn't want to spoil the moment, and he was taking the time to discover every single mount and valley of her gorgeous lips, every single place of her mouth.

His right hand took the time to find the line of her white shirt, just above her belt, and Mary soon felt long fingers touching her bare skin. She couldn't prevent the moan that escaped her throat, and didn't really want to, as his hand began to explore the front of her belly, tracing the line of her scar, of her belly button, and of her abs, abs she couldn't help but contract under his touch. Marshall's lips left her mouth, and she immediately shifted to have them back where they belonged. Then she started feeling soft kisses along her jaw line, moving up until they reached her right ear where he began sucking her earlobe, tasting with his tongue.

Mary felt a rush of pleasure as he worked his way to her ear, and couldn't help but arch her head backwards as another moan escaped her throat. She could feel Marshall's lips on her neck, and his hand on her belly, never crossing the bra line, lingering on every line she had, tracing every muscle along the way, as if he wanted to imprint her body in his mind.

But suddenly there was nothing more. No lips on her neck, no fingers on her belly. Just Marshall staring at her intently, his blue eyes turned to a navy shade and he whispered, "Not here, Mare. Not in a parking lot in the middle of a puddle. I'm going home, and if you want this as badly as I do, you're welcome to come along..." His voice was strained with the effort. "But there is no way I am going to make love to you here and now. I've waited for years now; I can wait for a few more minutes."

Marshall reluctantly removed himself from atop Mary's body, trying hard not to look at her swollen lips, at the erected nipples through the linen of her shirt, trying even harder not to listen to his brain and cock telling him that he could now have the woman he had been dreaming of for years. But he just couldn't do it there. At least, not for a first time. Each and every single fiber of his body was hoping she would follow him to his place; he couldn't think of what would happen if she didn't.

Marshall climbed in his SUV and started the engine, always keeping his eyes on Mary, still sitting in the water. He carried everything he felt about her in his eyes, hoping she would get the message. Exiting the parking lot, he began to make his way home, checking the mirror every ten seconds, hoping to see Mary's car behind his. He slowed down his pace, realizing nothing was coming after him, not a single light but the street lamps of the Albuquerque night.

He felt his heart aching; she didn't follow him. He had lost his chance – and definitely this time. He couldn't face seeing her tomorrow in the office, in front of everyone. He parked in his driveway, and had the force of will to wait until he was inside his house before he let the tears fall down his cheeks. He had missed his chance at everything, wasted it on one single decision. He could be making love to Mary right now in that parking lot, but no, he had to act like the gentleman he was, had to tell her to come over. He was always the one telling her to let her barriers down, and who was he, who couldn't let his own down?

Marshall took a deep breath and composed himself. _Very well; she doesn't want to come over here, I'll go to her place and we'll talk. And maybe we can fix this mess_, he thought. He grabbed his keys and badge he had discarded on the kitchen counter, shut off the lights, and opened his front door.

Mary was standing in front of him, smiling. "Sorry for the delay, Doofus, but someone had to clean up the mess. Can I come in? "

* * *

><p>If you enjoyed the story, you know what to do … Reviews are more than welcomed !<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: First, above all, thank you for all your reviews. You convinced me to write a bit more of this story. This was really awesome :)**

**Then, a gigantic Thank You to RjLupin's_Kat for the amazing beta she provided, the help and confidence.**

**Of course, I own nothing. **

**Here is part 2 of "Gravitation."**

* * *

><p><strong>"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once." Albert Einstein.<strong>

* * *

><p>US Marshal Delia Parmalee carefully took the plate out of the passenger's seat of her car, rejoicing in advance at the reaction she would have. Stan always welcomed the honey and raisins muffins with a huge smile, and Marshall always asked her the recipe, although he knew very well that she would not give it to him. Family secret. But he would nevertheless keep on asking. As for Mary, she would take one, as she did every day, eat it to the last crumb, and go back to work, without a word, which was, if you think of it, her way to say thank you.<p>

Delia was sing-songing in the elevator leading to the top floor of the Sunshine Building, and mentally reviewing her list of things to do this day. She enjoyed working in Witness Protection, and was more than happy to have been assigned a partner and several cases, although the most complex and difficult were still Mary and Marshall's. But that wasn't a problem; they both had a lot more experience than Sean and her, and they were, well, actually Marshall was, always happy to help and guide them. The doors of the elevator finally opened while Delia was searching for her badge in her large bag (full of useless things, as any woman's bag), and she was not ready to meet the scene that was presented to her.

The office was crowded with a lot of people with one or two phones in hands, laptops were splattered on every possible corner of Mary and Marshall's desks, and the two marshals were in the conference room with one of their witnesses. Delia made her way to her desk, put the muffins on it, stared at Sean, who moved his head, signalling her that no, he didn't know what had happened. Wisely enough, she checked the level of coffee in the pot, and stating it was low, decided to make another one. This was going to be one of these days.

-o-o-

Mary Shannon was pissed off. This wasn't unusual, but today she was much more pissed of than any other day. She didn't like being called at ass-am in the morning for an emergency, as she was far from being a morning person. And she disliked much more being disturbed when she was in a making-out session. And that's precisely what had happened this night. After the car-washing episode, and Marshall's proposition, she had stopped the water and parked the borrowed SUV at his place. Leaving the keys in the box, she had grabbed Marshall's vest he had forgotten on the front seat, and slowly made her way to his place. She knew he had won this round, making her wanting for more of him, more of his hands, of his tongue, more of his cock, but couldn't just head to his place rushing. She had made him (and herself), linger a little bit. When she had arrived on his street, she had seen through the window that he was standing in front of the kitchen counter, head down, and she had smiled. _He thinks I won't come_, she had thought, and her smile had widened. She had parked in the street, on the other side of his house so as not to be seen, and made her way to his door. She had been about to ring the bell, when she had heard him on the other side, turning the doorknob, and she just faced him, smiling.

"Sorry for the delay, Doofus, but someone had to clean up the mess. Can I come in?" The smile of her friend, partner, lover maybe, was all the invitation she needed. And when Marshall moved to let her in, she couldn't help herself, let her fingers linger on and cuddle his flat belly, feeling the hard abs under the shirt fabric. She was quite pleased at the moaning that escaped his throat when she did so, and could feel his eyes on her when she took her leather jacket off, hanging it on one of his chairs. Mary had smiled at him, relaxing, putting her elbows on the kitchen counter and her back against it.

Marshall was staring at her, his eyes turning a deeper shade of blue, a spark illuminating them, and was still holding the doorknob in his right hand, the door wide open. He was looking at his Mary, who had willingly come to his place at his invitation. And not for playing Jeopardy. The moment he had been waiting for for years now, after all they had been through, had finally come. No alcohol, or drugs, or anything else could be blamed for her move, and his heart was pounding hard in his chest, at the anticipation of what was coming. He finally closed and locked the door, put his badge on the table nearby. He made his way to the kitchen counter and rest himself in front of it on his forearms. Though he didn't look at Mary, he knew they were both smiling.

"Anything you want, Mare?" Marshall slightly turned his head to the left toward Mary, a smirk on his face. Mary smiled, turning to face him, her left elbow still on the kitchen counter, a little smile at the corner of her mouth. She opened her lips slightly, just enough to allow the tip of her tongue to come out and wet them, in one of the most erotic gesture Marshall had ever seen in his whole life.

_I have to do something, else I will jump her right here, right now_, he thought. He left her warm presence, and turned around the kitchen corner, heading straight to the fridge. He heard Mary shift her position and he could swear he felt her eyes watching, scrutinizing him. He took two Red Oak beers out, removed the caps, and handed one to his partner. He settled in front of her, and stared at her straight in the eyes, grinning.

"You want to talk about it, don't you?" Mary had taken a sip of her beer before she started to speak. She knew Marshall would want to talk about their parking lot adventure, that he would need to know whether she wanted to go a bit further down this lane in their relationship. She saw him nod before he took one sip of his beer too, allowing her to go on.

"I wanted it, Marshall. I want to try this… thing we just started. I can't promise I won't run in the morning, can't promise I will say the words. I can't promise anything. But, yes, I want this." Mary could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and a bowl of warmth growing in her belly. She was feeling the desire running in her veins, rushing to her brain, radiating from this point just under her diaphragm. And, she realized, she was only thinking about Marshall, not what they could be doing together in his queen-sized bed. But come to think of it, the heat she felt in her belly while thinking of _this_, was so much hotter …

"Mary, I just want you to understand that we will still be friends. There will be no need to run." Marshall was looking into Mary's eyes, trying to convey all the love and desire he'd had for her for years now, and did not realize immediately what she was doing.

Her elbows still on the counter, she broke contact with his baby blue eyes and stared at her beer with a predatory look. Another smile tugged at her lips. She was holding the top of her bottle with her right thumb and forefinger, and slowly let them slip along the neck of the bottle, fingers lazily caressing it. When they reached the body of the beer, the fingers started to climb along the neck again to the top. Her forefinger caught a few drops of foam. She brought them to her lips and began sucking, looking Marshall straight in the eyes.

Marshall immediately deleted his previous most erotic gesture and replaced it by the sight of Mary licking her forefinger full of foam. Each and every part of his body cringed for the touch of her hands on him, of her tongue in his mouth, and more, much more. But he would first be playing too, he thought, as Mary resumed her stroking of the bottle, burning a handful of his neurons in the process. Marshall grabbed a peach out of the fruit basket to his right. He put it to his mouth, smelling it first. Then he firmly pressed his teeth into the soft skin of the fruit. He grabbed a bite, staring into her eyes as he pulled the fruit from his lips. He could feel some juice falling from the corner of his mouth.

It wasn't long before Mary's finger came to his face to take the drops of juice on her fingers, and slowly, very slowly, began to lick her fingers again. She smiled, happy that he was playing the game she had started. She was both willing to jump Marshall right there, right then, but she also wanted nothing more than to go on playing as long as they could both stand it. Teasing had always been one of their favourite pastimes, and she was going to prove to him that as far as sex was concerned, she had a lot of ideas.

_Let's play_, she thought… and Mary took her beer in her right hand to take a sip when she let some drops fall on her throat, and a trail of golden liquid began its way down between her breasts. She was well aware of Marshall's glance at the droplets slipping under the edge of her cream tank top. The coldness of the beer on her skin made her shiver, contrasting so much with the fire burning inside of her. She was willing to give him an opening …

"I'm so clumsy sometimes… Marshall, do you have something to wipe this?" Mary said with a predatory smile on her face.

_Oh yes, Mare, I have something to lick it out, and my tongue is so ready I'm sure she'll look like the one of the Tex __Avery cartoons when I take it out. But I won't be the one who will let go, Sunshine_… He took a towel and made his way around the counter and saw the little sight of disappointment on Mary's face. He couldn't help but smile and instead of handing her the clean towel, he put it behind her neck, holding tightly to the both ends of it, holding Mary inside. They were so close to one another, Marshall could smell the odor of beer coming out of her slightly opened mouth. He was holding on to dear life not to kiss her now, not to lick her pink lips, not to let his hands wander under her top. But he would not be the one who would surrender. He had been waiting for nine years; he could wait for nine minutes.

Mary had seen Marshall coming with the towel and felt a bit disappointed. She had hoped the beer would break him, giving her the upper hand in this dance they were about to begin. But instead, he had grabbed the first piece of cloth that lay nearby to offer her. She was surprised, then, at his move. He had put the towel behind her neck, holding her there, but not trapping her. She could set herself free at any moment. Once again, he had given her a way out, an exit. But she had come so far on the road of her attraction towards him that she would not leave. The warmth in her belly was spreading throughout her whole body, nesting her in a cocoon of well-being. For the first time in ages, maybe for the first time in her life, she knew she was precisely where she had to be. But …

But there it was, back again. The fear. The Good old damn fear. The doubt, coming from years of bad choices, mistakes, loneliness broken only by cowboys met now and then … And years of building walls, to prevent anyone to come to her heart, and to hurt her when he would leave. Because everybody always left. And now, as Mary Shannon was about to start something with this beautiful, intelligent man, for one of the first times in her life, she was scared. Not only of being hurt, but also of hurting him. She pulled away.

"I don't deserve this, Marshall. I'm going to screw this up one way or another, going to hurt me, and what's worse, going to hurt you in the process. I'm not a girl for you…." Mary did not look at him, keeping her eyes downcast, avoiding his groin in case she couldn't resist…. Fear was there, and was taking its toll. She knew deep down, in the very core of herself, that she could not handle him leaving her. He was the only one who always stood up for her, who had never let her down. Mary had at long last stopped counting how many times Marshall had been there for her, whether it was bringing coffee, or giving her a lift when one of her Probes was broken, or helping her through birthing classes, or at the shooting range (even if she wouldn't admit it, he was a better shot than she was). Even when he opened the door for her.

"Mare, look at me." Mary didn't look up, way too afraid of what she would see in her partner's eyes. She felt his finger under her chin, softly but firmly pressing her head up, and couldn't help but follow the movement. "I've seen the worst and the best of you. I know perfectly well who I fell for so many years ago, and I'm not afraid. You can run away. But run fast, because I'll follow you. You can hide, but wherever you hide, I'll come and find you. You can burst in anger, I will stand in front of you. You can cry, I will offer my shoulder. And you can smile, and laugh, and I will smile and laugh too. Do to me what you want; I'm offering myself freely, and gladly."

Marshall was looking straight into Mary's eyes, and she could see the emotions matching his words. Yes, she could trust him; yes, he would come after her; yes, he had a shoulder she could cry on. She knew she could trust him; she just couldn't trust herself. She couldn't just admit she was good enough for this awesome man.

"Ah, Mare, I'm the one who should be afraid of not being good enough for you." Marshall was closing the gap between them, his voice barely a whisper, while his fingers gently put a lock of long blonde hairs behind her ear. "I haven't raised a sister on my own, I haven't learned to live an adult life as a child, I haven't had to fight my way into a very masculine profession to become one of the best Marshals the Service has. I didn't have to bear a drunk mother and a meth dealer sister and help them out… I'm the one who's not good enough for you."

Never letting his lips touch her skin, he traced the line of her jaw with only his breath, was quite happy to see her shiver a little. He couldn't help a smirk on his mouth. He couldn't help but marvel at the sight of just her soft skin on this face he knew so well, happy to discover some of its details… a little wrinkle here, a mole there…

Mary closed her eyes as she felt Marshall's breath fall on her skin. He never allowed his lips to touch her, but his soft exhale against her jaw was enough to make her shiver in pleasure. She held back a moan, not willing to grant him a victory so soon, but couldn't stop the ball of warmth in her belly radiating to every limb. She knew he was teasing her, and she had to refrain from stripping him right there, her senses fully aware. But she was not ready yet to let someone tame her. Or maybe she was. Maybe she could try just once to let her barriers down. If she didn't try with this man, with whom could she? Maybe was it the time to let go, just like she did in the parking lot earlier, when she had started everything. _Because I know he won't force me to do anything I don't want to…._

Once again this night, she complied. Fully aware of what she was doing, she let go. When his mouth came to hers, she caught his lips, began to move her arms up his chest. Lazily she caressed the hard muscles under his shirt, feeling his heart beat a bit quicker. She let her tongue move along his teeth before trying to access the inside of his mouth. Access he denied….

Marshall had been waiting for her move; he had wished it from the bottom of his heart, but was also conscious that Mary had to deal with her own demons and would not be forced into this. She had to surrender willingly, to let him take control, to let him prove he wouldn't leave, would still be there after…. And then Mary kissed him, took his lips with hers, and he could feel with accuracy every move her body was making… getting closer to him, feeling her hands moving, her hips to his. He couldn't help but moan at her pelvis against his already hard cock. But when her tongue asked for access, he did not part his teeth, saving the best part of it for a little later… teasing and playing. His hands had let the towel go and were slowly caressing her ribs under her tank top until he made her turn to rest against the kitchen counter. Was then able to slide a leg between her own. His lips left her mouth to place kisses all along her jaw line to her hear. He started licking the soft skin.

"You are every man's fantasy, Mary. Such soft skin…" Marshall's left hand found its way under her tank top, gently rubbing the small of her back. His touch lingered on her bullet scar, a reminder of when he had almost lost her. Using his right hand to pull her hair out of his way, he resumed kissing her throat, letting his tongue linger on the skin, making small circles and sending Mary waves of heat that pooled down in her belly.

She couldn't restrain this time the moaning that came from her, and her head fell backwards, offering her throat to his hot kisses. She felt his teeth. He was marking her, but she didn't care. He could do whatever as long as he kept kissing her like that… Mary's hands started to unbutton the flannel he was wearing, wanting to feel him under her hands, but Marshall pulled away a little, grabbing her hands, smiling.

"No need to hurry, Sunshine; we still have seven hours before we have to show up at work. Plenty of time left. And I intend to take my time. I've waited for so long, it's your turn…." Marshall's voice was soft in her ears, but the words made her cringe for more of him right now.

Mary fought her way out of the grab of his hands and resumed unbuttoning his shirt, adding kisses to his throat and at the edge of his undershirt. She worked her way to his shoulder, then pulled back to move the material away from his scar. She touched it with her forefinger, remembering that night in the gas station in the middle of nowhere. She remembered his words then, once again a declaration she had avoided taking into account. She smiled.

"Still thinking you're the keeper of an exotic animal?" Mary inquired, looking straight in her partner's eyes.

"More than ever." His mouth came to hers, full of desire. His was tongue asking for entry, pushing her to let him in through the barrier of her teeth. Again and again it asked entry, and when he was denied, he kept kissing her mouth… licking her lips, placing soft kisses on her cheeks, licking her throat, and coming back… Again and again, he could hear her moan until she could bear it no longer and slightly opened her mouth, granting him a tiny access. But that was all he needed.

Their tongues met, and electricity rushed through both their bodies. Their hands grew eager to explore the other. Tongues were dueling, exploring, tasting.

Marshall's hand came down his love's body, caressing. His long fingers leaving hot trails on the soft fabric of her top, nearly burning the skin under it, until he reached her pelvis. His hand then slid along her black jeans, parting her legs, resting on the soft spot of her sex. He could feel how hot she was, and still kissing her, let his hand wander there, trying to touch her soft core through the heavy fabric.

Mary felt his hand run down her ribcage, tracing lazy figures on her top. And when he touched her between her legs, even though there were so many clothes between them, she couldn't help but to whimper his name… the name of her best friend and soon-to-be-lover. He beautifully reacted to her moan by coming even closer to her, and she could fully feel the length of his cock across her pelvis, and was oh so amazed at the promises lying there.

In perfect unison, Mary and Marshall's phones began to ring and vibrate. Marshall pulled back, knowing full well who was on the end of each phone, but couldn't bring himself to escape Mary's warm embrace, her tempting lips, and the feel of her under his hand.

Still kissing her lips, he took his phone and looked at the ID screen. Stan. Pulling away, Mary looked at her partner's phone, then at hers. Then sighed.

"Always wondered how he could call both of us at the same time with only one phone. Yeah Stan?" she said, picking up the line. She still lay in Marshall's embrace against his kitchen counter, her throat being kissed by her partner. "What? No,no! Assholes! I'll be there in ten."

Marshall had stopped, concerned by the tone of her voice, even more concerned by the look on her face after she hung up. He redialed Stan's number, out of habit.

"Stan? You called? This better be important. Oh…. Yeah, I'll pick Mary, sure. On my way."

Mary was already putting her leather jacket on, and holstering her Glock when Marshall came by to grab his badge and keys.

"We'll have to finish this later, I'm afraid, Sunshine. There is no way I don't get to have you in my bed really soon, and for a very long time." Marshall dropped a kiss on Mary's nose, just a peck, while opening the front door for her.

-o-o-

"No need to hurry? You're saying the same, now, Doofus?" Mary's voice was sarcastic, full of frustration, of sex missed twice in the same night, of desire too. She had just hung up with Stan, taking the latest updates on Helen Goodall, who had disappear after her testimony. The US Marshals in charge of her safety had been shot on their way to Minneapolis, and she had been missing for three hours now.

"Oh, yes I do, Mare. I wouldn't have had a quickie for our first time. Not even for all the gold in the world." Marshall was smiling. He had had a taste of his dream, and the best was yet to come.

"Even for all the _Star Trek_ episodes?" Mary knew his weaknesses, too.

"Even for that. Thankfully you didn't ask about _Star Wars_ movies or _LOTR_. Would have been much more difficult to choose." He smiled and winkled at her as they entered the parking lot of the Sunshine Building.

Mary swatted him on the arm.

"Moron."

"Indeed. But I'm _your_ moron."

* * *

><p><strong>"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."<br>Pablo Neruda.**

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, there will be a Part III, with much more "action". But in a few time okay ? I want this done properly and to do justice to David Maple's characters, so I won't rush and let the story come. And I don't have that much quotes from Einstein left to start the chapters with :)<strong>

**But feel free to hit the "review" button, it is really rewarding :) Thank you for reading :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Finally – Here it is ! The final part of "Gravitation". And this time, it's the end of it … Then, I don't own In Plain Sight …

**RjLupin's_Kat, thank you SO much for not only the beta- but also for the advices and everything. So much thanks!**

What will happen nest to Helen, the witness? What will happen for our favorite Marshals ? Action, Romance and Larch Trees are awaiting you in the last part of "Gravitation!"

* * *

><p>Gravitation – part III "It's a kind of magic".<p>

" Things should be made as simple as possible, but not any simpler." Albert Einstein

* * *

><p>Helen Goodall (formerly Helen Goodwill) was scared, more scared if possible than she had been the day she witnessed Kevin Hanson murder her Richard. She had left her apartment in Albuquerque to testify in the trial in Denver, and be relocated after all was over, to prevent any security breach.<p>

She had been a bit sad to leave New Mexico, and her pair of WitSec Marshals who had become her family there. They were the ones she could always rely on, whenever she needed comfort, advice, or just talk to a friendly face. When one of them was on vacation or out of town, the other was always picking the phone, knew about her, her history, and would always come by if needed. And to add to the list, she would miss how they sometimes behaved like kids, mostly when food was involved, as Mary couldn't keep her hands out of Helen's pear and cranberries pies. She trusted them with her life, and now they were gone. She had passed into the custody of two other Marshals, much less funny, looking much more marshalish.

The only problem now was that Deputy US Marshals Patrick Bell and Tyler Stobbard were lying on the side of a dusty road, somewhere past Missoula on I-90. Both Marshals had spotted that they had been followed, but after a few maneuvers, had thought had they lost the blue sedan. But there, in the middle of nowhere, they had been ambushed. Some of Kevin Hanson's men had tried to extract their revenge on Helen. She remembered Patrick Bell shouting at her to run and hide before he turned back to the gun battle that was being held.

Helen had run for her life, literally. Thankfully she was a trained runner, used to undergo a two-mile jog every morning. She had been able to go to college thanks to a scholarship in athletics , her promising career being ended by a bad sprain a few weeks after graduating. But the habit and the pleasure of running had remained throughout the years, and she had enjoyed her morning runs in the parks, on the trails, even occasionally spotting her marshals running too.

But now she was in the race of her life. She knew she was a few miles from a small airport, but she couldn't remember the name she had seen on the sign. She had to find a phone and call the only people she trusted. Hopefully, she remembered these phone numbers. The USMS could take away her home, life, and phone, but they couldn't take her memory.

-o-o-

Mary was studying a map of the western part of the country. They knew the WITSEC Marshals were to bring Helen to the Seattle office, but on which road? This was left to the team to decide, on behalf of their experience and habits.

_Where are you Helen?_ she thought, hoping that it wasn't already too late. She was taken out of the thought by her partner coming into the conference room with a cup of coffee and a muffin.

"And of course you didn't have enough hands to bring me some, Piehole." she said, sighing at the view of Delia's everyday pastries. Marshall smiled, not bothered at all by her tone.

"And you have two hands too, Mare. And if I recall well, you _can_ use them. So if you want some, go and grab them. But you'd better hurry; FBI's guys were eying the chocolate muffins …."

In a rush of hair, she was out of the conference room, her fingers lingering on his a few nanoseconds before patting him on the arm.

Marshall sat at the large wooden table, looking through the windows. The sun would soon be up, and the remnants of the night were lingering in the sky and in his mind. He couldn't believe what had happened in the last seven hours. Between the return from Denver, the water fight in the parking lot, Mary's coming to his house, the kisses, her hands... He took a sip of his coffee, allowing himself to dream a little before going back to the mess that their office had become. Everybody was looking for Helen.

-o-o-

When the Seattle WitSec office had alarmed them that their team hadn't given any news in the past hour, Stan had started to do some research and alert some contacts in different offices. After two more hours, the alert had reached its maximum, as none of the Marshals had called his office. That's when Stan had called Mary and Marshall.

And now, one hour later, there was no sign of Helen. Last time the team had made contact, they were eating lunch past Idaho Falls, and no one knew which road they had taken from there.

Marshall's phone rang. He took a look at it, not recognizing the number on the screen.

"This is Marshall." His voice was steady, calm, professional.

"_Marshall?_ This is Helen … Can you help me?"

Coffee and muffin were forgotten on the table as Marshall rushed out of the conference room, signaling Mary that something was happening. The blonde began to go through the office silencing everybody before returning to her partner, who was still on the phone. "Where are you?... Can I reach you on this number?... Hang up."

Marshall turned to Mary, handing her his cell. As she redialed the number, he wrote it down by memory to give the IT experts so they could find where the call was coming from. He turned back as he heard his partner's voice, on the phone. Speaker was on.

"Helen, it's Mary. Calm down. We're tracking your phone. What happened?" Helen started to tell them what had happened, from the gunshot to the Marshals telling her to run and hide.

Marshall offered Mary the map they had been looking at for the last hours; he'd circled an area in red. Mary switched off the speaker phone.

"Helen, we're coming to pick you up. There is a small airport a few miles south of where you are, in a town called Seeley… We'll be there in three hours... I know, Helen, but it's the best we can do. We'll ask the Forest Rangers to come your way; they should be there in a few minutes... we will pick you at the airport, okay?" Mary hung up, heading for the door where Marshall was already waiting. He was speaking on his mobile, ensuring the jet was ready to take off to Montana. Without a word he handed Mary her leather jacket then followed her out of the office.

Sean Tanner, Delia's partner, kept looking at the place where the two Inspectors had been a few minutes ago, before turning to the woman sitting in front of him.

"How do they do that? They don't even speak to one another?" After four months in the Albuquerque WitSec Office Sean was still not used to the relationship between Mary and Marshall.

"They have their own kind of magic," answered Stan grabbing his vest and following his inspectors.

-o-o-

Three hours and forty-seven minutes later, the USMS jet landed at Seeley airport, Montana. The flight had been short, and somehow the marshals had lost contact with the Forest Rangers of Lolo National Forest, thus losing contact with Helen. The Control Tower of the airport had confirmed nobody was waiting in the main lobby for the marshals' flight to land. No words were necessary to understand something was going on with Helen; they began to plan their next moves.

A black SUV from the Missoula office was expecting them as their small plane descended. Without a word, Stan headed to the control center in the airport, followed by his Inspectors.

"Helen was last heard from when the Rangers found her at the camp near Seeley Lake," Stan said after being briefed by the locals. "We found the bodies of two Rangers a few yards from the road. We tried to contact their post in Seeley, but no answer, and no way to know what happened. Either the Rangers are keeping Helen in their barracks, or Hanson's guys have her. We don't know. You both are going to Seeley, with the Rangers. You find your witness and we bring her back home, quickly. I'll let you know if anything happens around here." Stan paused, looking at both his Marshals, running his right hand over his face, sighing."And by the way, both Marshals have been located. One seriously injured; one critically. Paramedics don't know if he'll make it".

Mary and Marshall acknowledged their boss, and started making the necessary checks of their Glocks, putting on their vests, and earpieces. A tall man made his way to them, dressed in the Rangers outfit, and introduced himself.

"Gareth Fenster. I'll drive you to the place. My men are already there, waiting for us. How do you want to play this, Marshals ?"

Mary and Marshall shared a silent conversation before the latter spoke.

"You stay covered," he said, tipping his head toward the Ranger. "You try to find the bad guys in the woods. We'll go to the barracks and see what happens there." Fenster nodded his agreement, checked his gun too, put on his vest, and showed the marshals his truck.

Ten minutes later, they were reunited with the rest of the Forest Rangers, all loaded and with their vests on. A map of the forest was unfolded on the hood of one of the trucks. Fenster pointed out the places his guys would have to go. The Forest Rangers were soon ready and headed towards their positions, earpieces in, weapons loaded, moving in the forest in complete silence.

Mary and Marshall followed the path to the place where they supposed Helen was. Hiding behind the trees, they spotted two sentinels, talking together, oblivious to their surroundings. The marshals silently made their way to the cabin a few meters further. Mary signaled her partner she had his back, letting him go inside first. She knew he liked opening doors with his boots.

Following him to the door, Mary stood with Marshall a few seconds, listening to the noises inside. Suddenly, laughter broke out in the air.

Marshall show Mary three fingers, and she nodded. Three, then two, then one. And… Marshall turned to face the door, throwing his right leg through with a _bang!_ At the same time the Forest Rangers moved in from the treeline to take care of the two sentinels outside.

As soon as Marshall moved into the room, Mary was up, in position to cover him. From the corner of her eye Mary saw the Rangers doing their part came into the small barracks, and turned back to the entrance just in time to hear her partner shout, "US Marshals, freeze! Drop your weapon!"

Marshall was pointing his gun towards two men. One of them held Helen in his arms, his weapon directly against her head. Mary swept in beside her partner, weapon drawn, keeping the two in her sights.

"You come closer, she's dead!" the voice came from the man holding Helen, a tall, dirty blond in his mid-thirties. The look on his face left no doubt about his intentions regarding the woman he was threatening.

Mary and her partner shared a look, and Marshall slowly put his weapon away, holstering it on his right hip.

The guy holding Helen seemed to relax a bit as one weapon had disappeared. He lowered his weapon from Helen's head to come to bear upon Mary.

As soon as the menace to their witness was lifted, Mary shot. One bullet straight in the right shoulder, surprising everyone but her partner.

"He told you to drop your weapon, Blondie." Mary was still aiming at the kidnapper with her Glock, as she spoke.

In an instant, everything started to move. "Blondie" released Helen to grab his shoulder in a reflex move, his face torn with pain, yelling. The shot, made at that close range, threw him backwards against the wall behind him. Mary had placed her bullet in the shoulder, hitting the brachial plexus, hoping it would make him drop his weapon and not shoot at her out of pure reflex. Marshall had also anticipated the move, and just like a few months before at the courthouse, he pushed Mary aside, covering her body with his. They heard the report of the gun, but saw no trace of the bullet close to them. Soon on their feet, Marshall checked on Helen while Mary regained her position holding "Blondie" at gunpoint, asking for the paramedics to assist. Helen was sobbing in the corner of the room, both from fear and relief.

Both marshals heard a door slam. Blondie's accomplice, standing by the door, had taken the opportunity to try to run. He had seen what was going on, and noticed that the law enforcement officers were mainly focused on his partner, the one holding the gun to the woman's head. And he took the first exit he found, trying his chance in the woods, just in case.

Mary and Marshall shared another look.

"Your Witness, your run." Marshall smiled at his partner's words before running after the man. Marshall knew he would catch the accomplice; he was an accomplished runner, wasn't blinded or distracted by fear. He smiled, keeping his breath. He had known from the start he would be the one to do the running. Mary was always grumbling when re-qualifications were around the corner; she had to train hard for the 1.5 mile run and she positively disliked that.

Mary made her way to the blond guy in front of her, still keeping a bead on him. Coming closer, she could hear him sobbing in pain, but kept her guard nonetheless. No way she was going to take any risk with a witness so close. Without taking any pity for his injury, she cuffed him one-handed then holstered her weapon. She was turning to Helen when the door broke opened and Gareth Fenster came in, gun in hand, checking the place. Placing herself in front of the witness, Mary turned to the Forest Ranger.

"There's another one out there. Marshal Miller is after him. You might want to call an ambulance for this one. He might be suffering from his shoulder." Mary indicated "Blondie," who had let himself fall on the floor, his face ashen with pain and blood all over his shirt. She turned to Helen, confident that Fenster would take care of the kidnapper.

"Come with me, Helen. We need to get you out of here. We have a plane waiting to take you back home." The woman nodded, just wanting this to be over. She was barely holding the tears from pouring. Helen had seen too much in the previous months, and today was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

The two women came out of the small cabin, Mary coming first, still in full protective mode; there was still a bad guy running the woods. She soon realized the Forest Rangers had taken the two so-called sentinels, could hear the sound of the ambulance in the distance, but no sign of Marshall.

Mary was torn between her witness and her partner. She wanted to run after her friend, partner, lov- whatever, but could not bring herself to leave Helen unprotected. If something happened to her, Mary would not forgive herself. But what would be worse is that Marshall would not forget about it.

Mary called Stan, informing him that the witness was secure, and the bad guys nearly all cuffed. Then she started waiting.

"… there is one funny thing about larch trees. Although it is a conifer, this tree loses all its leaves in the fall, whereas the others, such as pine, cedars, Douglas-firs, cypresses, keep them." Marshall's voice could be heard through the trees, coming closer. Helen had heard it too, and she smiled at Mary, recognizing one of her handler's many little bits of knowledge.

Marshall finally came into plain sight, holding a cuffed redhead with his left arm, a pine cone in the other, finishing his lecture.

"The most amazing part remains that the earliest conifers are dated from the late Carboniferous period, some three hundred millions years ago, and apparently looked like an Araucaria – which means 'Monkey's Despair,' by the way. And, as we've arrived, I'll have to leave you to these charming men in green, from whom, if I recall well, you and your friends took two of their friends away. And I'm not even mentioning the marshals you all have injured. Have fun."

Marshall literally threw the guy into the arms of Fenster before turning to the two women and gesturing with his right hand the way out of the woods.

"Ladies, shall we?"

-o-o-

The sun was trying to make its way through the green curtains of Mary's bedroom, but was prevented bringing too much light by their heavy fabric. A small ray had nonetheless found its way through the recess, lingering on blonde hairs, turning them into pure gold. The form under the covers didn't move the slightest, relishing in every single minute of rest it was granted.

The phone on the right nightstand began to buzz, the screen flashed, and one blonde head emerged from under the covers to seize the disturbing piece of technology. Mary looked at the name on the screen before sending the call to voice mail. She didn't want to answer right now, and put the phone back on the nightstand.

"Who was it?" said a voice from under the covers, before spiky black hairs and blue eyes emerged from under the sheets. Mary sighed and turned to the right, reaching the warm embrace of Marshall's arms.

"Brandi. Don't want to talk to her now." She crawled within the bed, letting her head rest on his chest, her hand on his belly, and tried to go back to sleep. The last two days had been very long, between the return from Denver and the shooting in Montana. Now Helen was secured in an Albuquerque motel guarded by Delia and Sean, and both partners had the day off to rest.

For once, they didn't question Stan's orders, and took leave without a word, large black rings under their red eyes, completely exhausted. In the parking lot, Marshall had thrown his keys to Mary who, without questioning her partner, had driven them to her place, where they had fallen fully clothed into the large queen-sized bed, worn out. This had been ten hours ago.

Now they were both awake and rested, and staring at each other in silence.

"You want coffee?"

Mary was the first to talk, her voice raw from the night, feeling blue eyes all over her mouth as she spoke. She sat up on the bed, closing her eyes and stretching her arms above her head to release the tension that had built these last two days. She suddenly felt something crawling along her back to her neck. Two large and strong hands started gently massaging the top of her back, kneading the knots that had been there for ages. She couldn't help but let a moan escape as her arms fell down by her sides. One of the hands gently seized her hair, pulling it over onto her right shoulder and leaving an empty place on her neck. Mary shivered at the chill she felt when her golden locks were removed. But she soon felt the warmth of the two hands, lightly touching her.

And then the cold again. No touch anymore; nothing, just the sound of the sheets being moved behind her. Mary felt something on the back of her neck, something smooth, like a feather or the wings of a butterfly gently caressing her skin, 'til lips reached her left ear.

"Coffee later. It's you I want right now." Marshall's words were barely a whisper, but they seemed to echo in all of Mary's body, warming her from the inside. The now familiar feeling that came from her belly was radiating throughout every single nerve, making her shiver.

Mary tried to move to face her partner, but was gently prevented from doing so by firm hands on her forearms.

"Not now, Mare, I'm not done here ..." And Marshall resumed his kissing of her neck, slowly, languidly, letting his tongue linger on the sensitive spots along the way, taking his time to taste her skin, grinning as he could hear her moans. His kisses began to travel downward on her spine but was stopped by the neck of Mary's shirt. She moved to remove it; she didn't want to break the connection with his lips. But once again, he stopped her.

Marshall really didn't want to rush things with Mary. He had right now what he had longed for for such a long time, and in case, just in case, this wasn't going to last between them, he wanted to take his time to savor her, not to have regrets afterward. He smiled at Mary's attempt to remove her shirt, and gently took her hands from it. He really wanted to show her what it was like to make love to someone, not just have sex. And the fact that this someone was the woman he had been longing for for ten years now was just the icing on the cake. He sure wouldn't rush a thing. But Mary would try … _that will be fun, _he thought, grinning ...

Mary thought she would lose patience with every kiss that was placed on her spine. She wanted nothing more than to lay Marshall right down and have her way with him. But she felt he wouldn't let her do just that. He would fight her, and even if she wouldn't admit it publicly, she knew he was stronger than her, and more skilled at all kinds of martial arts than she was. Each time she had tried, he had made it perfectly clear that _he_ was in charge, and he wouldn't let her take the lead this time. She smiled; her mind had just implied there would be other times and she was fine with that.

For once, and without even being in the arms of a man for the moment, she wasn't thinking of going away from the place as soon as possible. No, this time, she was just thinking about what this tongue and what these hands could do to her...

Said hands were now finding a way under her shirt, just above her waist. Marshall's kisses continued their lazy dance on her neck. Slowly crawling across Mary's back, the fingers started to explore the lean muscles of her body, tracing the path of the ribcage, each vertebra of her spine, searching for sensible spots, until both hands reached her shoulder blades, sliding under the strips of her bra.

Touching Mary's lingerie was like holding one of the most precious things Marshall ever had. He just couldn't believe she was actually letting him caress her, explore her, kiss her... He could feel some parts of his anatomy react at the softness of Mary's skin, at the smell of her, at the moans that were being exhaled from her mouth in whispers. He could feel her shiver under his ministrations, react to his kisses, and he just wanted more, so much more… His hands were now making their way above Mary's shoulders, aiming directly at her beautiful breasts, while his kisses were slowly moving along her chin, trying to reach her mouth.

Marshall kissed her lips just as his hands reached their destination. They began to make small circles, gently pressing palms to the softly giving flesh. He started kissing her lips, taking his time to savor every mount of them, and soon felt Mary opening her mouth, urging him to come in. He complied happily, taking time to linger a bit on her teeth before plunging his tongue in her mouth. Their tongues began their sexy dance, searching for each other, licking, teasing, grabbing.

Mary couldn't stay still anymore; she needed to move. And hold him, hold this man, her best friend, partner, in her arms, to enjoy feeling his skin under her own hands. Still kissing Marshall, she started to turn, regretting instantly the loss of feeling of his hands on her breasts, but she could finally face her Mann. It was now her turn to discover what was hidden under his shirts.

They started at the same time to undo the buttons of their shirts, without breaking the kiss. It was for Mary something she had never thought possible until this moment.. to be so turned on by just a kiss. Marshall's hands soon got rid of her shirt, taking it from Mary's skin, leaving just her white lace bra. He broke the kiss to look at her, seated on her bed. Just her jeans and lingerie on, she glowed in the morning light.

Mary quickly removed his shirt, and he sat before her half naked, a huge smile on his lips. Lips that were now swollen by the long kisses they had just shared. Still smiling, Marshall made his way towards her, forcing Mary to lay back. His strong hands started to rub her belly, while his lips kissed her scar. Marshall sat up, looked at the woman he had been deeply in love with for so long, and who was almost his...

"You're sure you want to do this, Mare...? I can still stop... later will be .. too late."

_And again, he is giving me a way out,_ thought Mary. She didn't reply, not wanting to bother with words, but choosing to show him. She raised up on her elbows and caught his lips with her own, letting her hands touch his chest for the first time. _God he is strong,_ she thought, tracing each muscle with her fingers, lingering on his nipples, feeling them harden fast against her soft touch.

Marshall couldn't help moaning too, and his nipples weren't the only thing becoming hard; he could feel his jeans tighten around his groin, urging him. He resumed caressing her, letting his left hand linger on the button of her jeans until Mary's hips pressed against his fingers; he opened the button. Panties made of the same fabric and lace as her bra revealed their tempting wrapping.

"Like what you see? " she whispered in his ear. Marshall helped her out of her tight jeans, taking a second to look at her. Laying in her bed in just underwear, she was gorgeous. Marshall had always known his partner was a beautiful woman, with curves where there needed to be some, not one of these skinny women magazines show as examples. No, Mary Shannon was more than a beautiful woman. She was his perfection of a woman He couldn't imagine how he could one day not want to just look at her naked.

"Very much. But I think I would prefer you without them," he whispered, leaning back on her.

Mary stopped him with her left hand on his chest, her right helping her get situated. She kissed Marshall on the lips, just a peck, and got out of the bed. Smiling, she turned to face him, and started to remove her bra... strip after strip... taking her time... fully aware of the effect she had on her partner. Reaching behind her back to remove the rest of the lingerie, she threw it to him with one hand while hiding her breasts behind the other. Grinning, Marshall caught and kept it, while Mary turned and started removing her panties, showing him a view of her beautiful and well-shaped asset. Again, Mary threw her panties over her shoulder, and slowly turned to face Marshall, her breasts and sex hidden by her hands. He could barely breathe at the sight presented before him. Seconds later, Mary lifted her hands to show herself completely naked in front of him .

"Better?" she asked, staring at Marshall. An evil grin pulled at the corner of her mouth.

He didn't answer, but in a quick and fluid move, Mary found herself on her back on the bed, her partner on top of her, kissing her like she was the fountain of his life. His hands were busy massaging her breasts, her own working to undo the button of his trousers. He groaned in her mouth, helping her shed his jeans, the same ones that were soon discarded on the floor, forgotten. Marshall moved down her body, sucking her nipples, licking them, while his right hand found its way towards her entrance, covered with golden locks. She was already wet, and the lightest touch of his fingers sent shivers throughout all her body, making her moan. Her hands grasped the sheet. She was already on the verge of climaxing.

Marshall took his boxers off. He couldn't hold on a lot longer, and seeing Mary in this state, opening her legs just for him, looking at him and begging him to come, broke any refrain he still had. Leaning again on his partner, he came close to her wet entry, waiting for her to make the next move. She understood, and pressed her hips against his, urging him to come in.

Marshall complied, once again, and plunged into the so-wet center. He could feel her muscles around him, tightening at the feel of him... holding him...

And he started to thrust... as slowly as he could.

Mary felt her partner enter her, could feel him inside her, relished in thewarmth that was spreading throughout her body, sensations she had never known before. Was it that really making love, when there were deep connections between the two partners? The sensations in her body now were making her forget the best sex she might have ever had before. This was much more intimate, much more profound, much closer. And yet, it wasn't even over. She knew she would want more of this, more of these tiny little shivers spreading to every nerve of her body. More of Marshall on her, more of her on Marshall. If this was really making love, she would embark upon this ship whenever.

Watching Mary respond to his thrusts nearly sent Marshall over the edge right then. He still held some self-control, but when he felt his partner's arms on his chest, caressing him again, he lost every common sense. His thrusts became stronger, reaching to her very core.

Mary felt the orgasm arriving, starting in her toes, climbing her body on languid waves of pleasure until she lost herself in total bliss, rising to hold her partner tight against her. Marshall climaxed soon after. As the tension left his body, he relaxed heavily against her, the pair panting, spent in each other's arms.

"When morning comes, you'd better not have run away, Mary Shannon." Looking straight in her eyes, Marshall wanted to make sure she understood he would come after her if necessary. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips before she answered with a mischievous smile.

"You'd better keep on convincing me to stay, then, Marshall Mann."

* * *

><p>Here it is – My first attempt at smut – I really hope you enjoyed it. If so, please, please, leave a message. I need to know what I have to improve :) Or just that some persons liked what I wrote :)<p> 


End file.
